Sarah vs the Flashback
by All In The Bones
Summary: Our memories shape us- they dictate our pasts, our present, and even our futures. Sarah Walker lost hers, and in doing so, her life as well. However, it would take more than a dysfunctional super computer to remove five years of her life...
1. Prologue

_A/N: Why hello! If you've followed any of my other stories in the Bones section, so sorry about the absence. it's just my life has exploded recently. Anyways, I will be working on Echoes when I can, and hopefully finishing it up before the seventh season of Bones begins in the spring. I may have a oneshot here or there, I'm not quite sure yet. _

_Anyways, this is my first Chuck fanfiction- this was mostly inspired by the series finale, of course, and my own attempts to figure out what happened after the screen faded to black. My opinion on the finale is mixed- I would have loved to have had the fluffy end, with the last shot being of that white picket fence of the dream home, but at the same time, I have to applaud Fedak and Schwartz for going out with a bang. _

_I don't think Sarah would have regained her memories directly after that final kiss- it is a bit cliche, and seems like a last minute fix. However, it was clear that Quinn didn't erase her memories, just repressed them- as evidenced by her recalling the Weinerlicious, the virus, etc. Therefore, she has the last five years still intact. _

_A little plot bunny came to life from there, and thus this fic. I plotted, and figured out an ending that I was happy with- one that involved our Sarah coming back, fully. I hope you enjoy this little tale, and please, if you have any thoughts or suggestions, feel free to leave a review. They are very appreciated.  
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_For clarification, the story begins (including the below prologue) and takes place about 6-7 months after the finale. _

**Reset**

_The world seems not the same  
>Though I know nothing has changed…<em>

_-Within Temptation, Pale_

The room itself was the first indication that something was wrong.

As she took it in, the tilted realm of sleep falling away to consciousness, Sarah Bartowski was able to process one thing quite clearly- this was not her bedroom.

For one thing, the walls were too bland- just a normal off-white shade, with small gray highlights serving as trim along the walls. To most, it would seem normal, tasteful- but for Sarah, it indicated something very wrong.

Where the hell was that _Tron_ poster? Not to the other geeky memorabilia and collectibles that had been stuffed along the room walls and shelves for the past two years. The color was off, so damn much- the room was too big, the bed shunted off to the side. The wall sized-window shouldn't be there- neither should it be showing the skyline of Dubai.

Most importantly of all, Sarah shouldn't be alone in the Queen sized-bed.

Her heartbeat slowed slightly, and her body tensed against the plush sheets intertwined around her body. She slide her hand underneath the pillow, a little more than a decade of service and training coming into play instantly. As skin met metal, Sarah remained frozen, until her grip was secure.

With a flash, she arced up out of the bed, the gun pointed around the room. She scanned for enemy activity, stalking towards the door. She listened, her heart picking up a slightly faster rhythm.

No response.

For a moment more, she stood, her own shallow breathing the only sound to pierce the silence. Finally, she lowered the gun slightly, still staring at the door, relaxing her muscles slightly.

When no goons came bursting in through the door after another two minutes, Sarah finally lowered the gun, still allowing it to hang at her side. Sarah allowed herself to breath a bit deeper. Either the "enemy" was waiting for her to make the next move, or there was no enemy in the first place.

Well, if it was the former, Sarah had time to wait.

She paused for a moment, and turned back around, her mind finally catching up with her surroundings.

_How the hell did I get here?_

Her memories were a dead end- her last recollection was of sitting in the courtyard just outside her apartment, showing Chuck a potential office space for the tech company. The spot was high on the list, as an incentive to get Casey happy with the shift in gears for Carmicheal Industries. She remembered, fuzzily, hearing Casey come through the entrance, and thinking that choosing an office that had belonged to Reagan would be a pretty good incentive for the former NSA agent. After that, however, it was all a blank.

Sarah glanced towards the door again, holding the gun a little tighter in her hand. She moved towards the bed, her heart speeding up.

_What happened?_

She was missing memories, she knew that- she had no idea how long had passed between her last memory and the present, whether it was a few days or a few weeks. Somehow, she had ended up in Dubai, alone, without her team…

…_and Chuck. _

As that thought crossed her mind, she tensed, shaking suddenly. She felt her breathing speed up, massive anger and grief rising unannounced. Sarah blinked, bewildered by the sudden rise in her emotions. She had mastered the ability to keep her emotions even, to hide them behind a mask. With being a spy, that was essential.

Now, however, why did she feel like bawling?

Struggling to keep herself under control, Sarah staggered toward the dresser, leaning against it to steady herself. She gasped heavily, struggling to return her emotions to baseline.

A few moments later, her rational thoughts returned, and Sarah began to rummage through the drawer, looking for anything that may indicate her presence here. Just some clothing, a jacket, and a small handgun- nothing out of the ordinary.

Perplexed, Sarah stepped back. There should have been something- a photo, a card, anything that would have indicated why she was in this room. Instead, minus the presence of the weaponry, Sarah appeared to just… be here.

_Not for long_.

Her next move was planned, instinctive. She had no purpose here- or rather, she needed to be elsewhere. There was one person, one soul, where she felt at home.

She just needed to get to him.


	2. The Memento

_A/N: And we're back! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it means a lot. I'll try to update this on a weekly basis, and work out a similar schedule for Echoes, as well. As for the length, I'm thinking about 10 chapters, give or take a few._

_Also, this will be a bit of a split narrative- The individual chapters will divided between Burbank and Sarah, and come together about halfway through the story. Anyways, please enjoy!_

**Memento**_  
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_Rewind, I wanna go it again, light up the dark, halo on the side  
>So I'll know it will not leave me wanting, like my love, kissing me good bye<br>Rewind, I wanna go it again, light up the dark, halo on the side_

_-Poets of the Fall, Rewind_

It was supposed to represent infinity.

It seemed like such a simple form- a small circle, emblazed in gold and light, making a small loop that used to fit over her finger, a perfect mesh of metal and skin. On the top, a few precious stones sat, their positions specially selected to create an illusion of conformity- to Chuck, the one in the middle, the biggest one, looked like some spray-painted mountain, like one that had risen far below Chuck on more than one occasion, the most recent being when he was hanging hundreds of feet from a gondola on a mission.

However, this stone was tiny, barely a speck in the true nature of things. Its counterparts were even smaller, even more insignificant. Despite the overall worth, despite the glory, the item Chuck held between his fingers wasn't that unique, looking similar to so many others that had been manufactured over the years. As Chuck looked down on Sarah's wedding ring, holding it tightly, he couldn't help but wonder how many rings were "supposed" to represent infinity, "supposed" to represent an everlasting bond, how many were "supposed" to represent love.

Chuck raised it up a bit more, looking at the ring a bit closer. It wasn't like this ring hadn't represented those things, at one time. He remembered sweating in the jewelry store, and barely hearing Morgan rambling on about the different cuts or symbols the Buy More Store manager could make out through the glass. Chuck was preoccupied with his own search, his mind giving a stream of "No's" as he browsed- that one was too thin, that one too clunky, all of them falling short of perfection. There was always some flaw that caught him short, something that shut the possibilities down, that could be summed up in one phrase-

_It wasn't good enough for us_.

Chuck barely remembered what made him choose this one, but it just fit. Something about the setting, the metal, the gleam it took when the jeweler's light caught it, fit Chuck's expectations. There was no more searching, no more questions- it just, fit.

Not that it did anymore.

Chuck took a deep breath, and lowered the ring slightly, turning to look out the window. In the small square that marked the apartment complex, the fountain bubbled and frothed, as it had for the last few years. The cobblestones, perhaps a bit more worn in appearance than they were new, speckled the ground around it, it the exact same configuration it had always been in. All in all, the complex looked the same, never changing.

Of course, Chuck knew the subtle differences- his sister's old apartment was now abandoned, kept clean in the wait for the next prospective tenant to stop by. On the other end, inside the other apartment, the Reagan portrait and other patriotic regalia that had belonged to one John Casey had been removed from the walls, only to be replaced with movie posters and repainted walls. The only residents in the complex were Morgan and Alex, as well as Chuck himself.

_She just walked away…_

As the thought crossed Chuck's mind, he bowed his head, taking a deep breath. He shut his eyes, a ragged breath escaping from his mouth. A low moan sounded from his vocal cords, and he leaned up against the window, struggling to keep himself together.

_She just walked away…_

Everything had seemed… alright. After the kiss on the beach, she had looked at him, _really_ looked at him again. As he gazed at her, he had thought he had seen her love for him return- the small spark that was Sarah Bartowski, his wife, coming back to life within her eyes.

He had grinned at her, so foolishly, giddiness overcoming his other senses. She had smiled at him as well, but Chuck wasn't sure if he had picked up on her hesitation or not. He definitely didn't pick up on it in the frenzied kiss that followed a second later.

She had asked to sleep on the couch that night, and Chuck, lost in the ecstasy of hope, had agreed cheerfully, assuming she would just need some time to come to terms with everything- who wouldn't? He had slept much better that night, under the assumption that his wife was just a room over, after having disappeared for two weeks.

If he could have gone back, he would have slept on the floor beside her.

The morning came, and she was gone, bags packed and guns removed from the wall. Chuck had wandered around the apartment in a daze, until he found the note on the floor, slightly crumpled.

Her handwriting was calm, cool. A bit of shakiness here and there, but nothing major. However, her words were clear-

_Chuck,_

_I can't do this to you- it's easier this way._

No signature, no P.S. No " Sincerely," no "Yours Truly", no "Love,"

No Sarah.

He hadn't called Ellie, or Awesome- they were halfway across the country by then, and Chuck couldn't shake the feeling that Ellie would drop everything once she heard his voice. Casey was never much for emotions, anyway, and had already jetted off to find Verbanski.

Morgan, of course, was there, showing up on his doorstep with a couple of Footlongs as soon as he found out. Alex didn't come, if only because she understood that Chuck needed it to be just Morgan, this time. For about two days, Morgan was holed up in the apartment with him, playing Call of Duty and Halo as they pigged out on Subway sandwiches and Cokes, providing the company Chuck needed.

That "therapy", as it were, helped- it kept his brain working, and least in a semi-state. He didn't fall apart, at least not completely. After those few days, he had the strength to walk into the former Buy More, go underneath to Castle, and ring up Beckman.

He was back at the CIA- too much had happened, too much had changed for him to go back to the Buy More, not to mention the fact he had the Intersect back- the CIA wouldn't let him go that easily. Beckman had been "thrilled", for lack of a better word, to have him back, immediately beginning to assign agents to track down Casey and to form a new Team Bartowski in a frenzy. However, that wasn't what Chuck had in mind.

An empty office had been converted, specialists brought in. A new Technical Espionage division was set up in Burbank, with Chuck at the head. Now, he spent his days tracing the flow of secrets on the internet, and hacked into criminal organizations on behalf of the CIA. No field operations, no missions- just Chuck and his computer, working behind the safety of a screen.

It just hurt too much- to go back.

Returning to the present, Chuck took another heavy breath, and let out a low curse. As he unfolded his palm, he found Sarah's ring embedded in his palm, the red indentions a perfect silhouette of the ring. He relaxed his palm slightly, and continued to stare at it.

_It was supposed to represent infinity…_

"Chuck?"

Chuck jumped as he heard the loud knocking come from the door, as well as Morgan's voice pierce through the walls to the bedroom. He glanced towards the door, as the knocking continued. "Hey, buddy, you in there?"

Chuck blinked again, and than, calling back with as flat a voice as possible, replied. "Yeah, in a minute!" Hurriedly, he opened up a chest drawer, struggling to ignore the wedding photos and notes the lined the bottom. He held the ring up for a moment, hesitating with putting it away. However, reason won out, and he quickly grabbed the box, where his own was resting. He placed her ring gently on top, but it slide slightly as he put the box down, overlapping with his own. For a second, the two rings seemed interlocked, until Chuck clicked the box shut, and closed the drawer, heading out of the room.

As he reached the doorframe, he paused for a moment, and turned back, to gaze at the drawer. He shut his eyes, at let out a light sniffle.

For a second, he continued to hesitate. The only sound was his heart thudding in the middle of his chest.

However, the moment didn't last. His eyes popped open; he squared his jaw, and turned.

He walked out, without looking back.

()((((()

When the door popped open, Morgan was twisting around, impatience getting the better of him. His mind was wondering rather strongly that morning, and he was currently running through the battle sequence between Darth Maul and Qi Gon Jinn in _The Phantom Menace_ to bide his time. He must have been unwittingly acting out some of the movements in real life, as his arm swung dangerously close to Chuck's head as the later opened the door.

Morgan jumped back, as Chuck dodged the "blow" instinctively. Morgan fluttered back slightly, shaking his head to remove the shock. When he saw Chuck, he immediately began to babble- "Ah man, dude, sorry! I'm so sorry-"

Chuck, how had returned to his normal stature, gave a weak smile at his friend. "Buddy, it's fine, it's fine- no big deal."

Morgan glanced back, his eyes still wide in fear. "Are you sure? I mean, I can pack a punch when I don't watch it-"

"Morgan, it's fine."

Watching Chuck for a moment more, Morgan let out a loud sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God. You had me worrying for a minute there…"

"Morgan, it's fine, really."

Morgan nodded, and than stepped back, looking Chuck over. His friend was wearing a suit, befitting his new position. It was strange, Morgan had often thought to himself over the last few months that Chuck was beginning to turn into a businessman. No more goofy ties, no more pocket protectors- Chuck resembled a frigid CEO.

Of course, that was just his appearance- he was still Chuck- well, mostly.

He could see it- the blank expressions, the dull shine of his best friend's eyes. Morgan wasn't quite sure how to approach it with Chuck, or even if he could make difference, any difference at all. Morgan knew the cure, as did everyone else who was close to Chuck- however, the cure was long gone.

Giving a fake smile, Morgan gently gave his friend a pat on the shoulder, and moved to walk beside Chuck as they walked out of the patio. Chuck cleared his throat, and than asked, "So, how's the job hunt going?'

Morgan nodded, and than looked out at the entrance as he replied. "Well, kinda good, kinda bad, you know? I've been to a few interviews, but, I guess wearing a tie with the USS Enterprise on it isn't quite up to standards-"

Hearing his friend, Chuck rolled his eyes. "You know, you could just avoid all this if you just took my offer."

Morgan, knowing what Chuck was about to bring up, began shaking his head before the sentence was halfway out of his mouth. "No no, Chuck, we've been through this- a one-time Buy-More store manager does not a CIA spy make. I don't have your computer skills, and I highly doubt you would need a floor manager at the Division."

"Beckman said she would be willing to find a spot for you, you know." Chuck replied. "It wouldn't just be a favor for you."

"I know, I know, you've said that before. But…"

"But what, Morgan? You did great stuff before- you got Casey to stick up for you- _Casey, _Morgan. What's the deal?"

Morgan was silent, and began to fidget. He wasn't quite sure how to breach the reasons why with Chuck, given the fragile state his friend was in- or, rather, the state he thought his friend was in.

He fidgeted for a few seconds more, until Chuck spoke. "It's Alex, isn't it?"

Morgan froze, and glanced up at his friend. Chuck was standing a couple steps away, looking at Morgan expectantly. Morgan blinked, still in shock that Chuck had picked up on that.

"Yeah… she doesn't, I mean, I don't... we agreed- no more CIA"

There was silence from the both of them. Morgan glanced up, a bit unnerved. However, he simply found his friend, gazing away, his face flat.

For a moment, the silence continued. Then, Chuck took a breath, and stated, "Okay."

Morgan blinked again. "Okay?"

"Yep, okay."

Morgan could only stare as Chuck turned around, and began to walk briskly towards his car. "Chuck-"

"It's fine, Morgan. I'll stop asking."

"Okay…" Morgan said, staring in confusion after his friend. "Okay, thanks!"

"No problem."

Morgan could only watch as Chuck got into his car, and drove away. He could only sigh, and wonder. He could only watch.

"I'm so sorry, dude- I'm so sorry."

()(((()

Sarah's new suitcase was amazingly small, given all the clothes and other artifacts she had found in the room.

_Where did I get all this stuff? _

Sarah could only wonder where it all came from- if someone had kidnapped her and erased her memory, she highly doubted that they would take the time and resources to put her up in a fancy hotel, not to mention this quality of clothing. That, and not to mention she hasn't seen or heard anyone trying to get into the room, seemed to indicate a less malevolent presence.

Of course, that didn't mean it was out of the question.

Sarah had to be slow, thoughtful- she still had no idea how she got here, or who was behind her memory loss. She was in danger, if only because she had no idea what had brought her to Dubai, or how much time had past. Knowledge was power, and that was the concept her entire job was based around- why would she let that go now?

As she rummaged through her bag, struggling to pack the last few things, her hand glided over the lining of the suitcase, and came into contact with a small sheet of paper. She paused, and removed it. As she unfolded it, her eyes widened in surprise.

At first she had thought it was her usual picture of Chuck and her, the one she kept with her at all times. Why it would be in this suitcase, she had no idea- however, she needed that sense of home, and she was desperate to see one speck of her life, her normal life. However, what she found was close.

It was a photo, but not of her and Chuck- rather, it was the home that Chuck had planned on buying, the one with the bright red door. Sharpie marks distorted the image, creating the appearance of a fence line in front of the house. In the center, the pattern was interrupted, to be replaced with a man and a woman, with the woman holding what appeared to be a baby in her arms. Sarah traced her fingers along the edge of the marks, her eyes widening when she realized the man was wearing a Nerd Herd uniform.

_Where did this come from?_

It could have been days, for how long she simple stared at the image. Her hands traced the man and woman over and over, a strange familiarity eating at the back of her mind. She could only stare, and clutch at the image.

_What have I missed?_


End file.
